


Over time

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ana is just very depressed, Autistic Reinhardt, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Just two old people being nice and loving each other ok, Reinhardt is Pharah's dad, they bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: He was Fareeha's father, and Ana was still close to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first OVW fic and i love these old people please dont judge me for my crap writing

The air was dusty, as was usual around where Ana lived. Of course, where she was now didn't matter. What mattered was that she was used to it. Pharah was away, on some sort of mission, as was equally common. And yet, somehow, Ana never got used to that.

Sometimes, where they traveled, it was cold. Ana built herself for any conditions. Despite living in Europe all his life, Reinhardt's old bones were weak to the cold.

"I'm freezing mein arsch off."

"You don't need to put German words in your sentences. I'm not going to forget you're German."

"I like to."

"Keep yourself in motion, it gets the hot blood pumping."

"Ha! I always have hot blood pumping!"

He was a character, Reinhardt was. A real character. Ana wondered how, through everything, he could always be... not quite optimistic, but energetic, at the least. He was the opposite of Ana, which was, perhaps, why they connected, and had a child. Fareeha. The light of Ana's life. Reinhardt wanted to be part of it, but the danger of Overwatch's collapse separated them. And now they were together again, in the cold, dusty Russian wind. 

She remembered him from back then. Of course, she never knew him when he was particularly young. He was open about it, she knew he was once nearly seven feet of awkward, gangly German teenager, as hard as it was to believe. And he'd always had an interest in medieval weapons and armors.

"King Henry the Eighth," he began to speak, absently. "wore armor with enormous codpieces."

Ana grinned.

"Really now?"

"Yes! To prove to women that he was still virile!" His laughter boomed like a train stopping at a station. "And considering how many wives he went through, it must have worked!"

"How did you design yours?"

"My what?"

"Your armor."

"I took a few elements of medieval German armor, and crafted them to my enormous physique!"

"I've always wondered how it must feel lugging that suit around."

"I couldn't have asked for anything better! When I am in armor I feel alive!"

"That's wonderful."

She always asked herself when the passion left her existence. When did she stop feeling alive? Maybe her and Reinhardt were meant to draw together. The sun was covered by the clouds, what little light remaining glittering off of Reinhardt's beady eyes. 

"What do you like?"

Ana's eyelids fluttered. What did she like?

"I guess I've always been a great marksman."

"That's your job, but what do you enjoy doing?"

"...Weapon technology. Yes, that's it." She had been interested in creating new weapons for a long time. "And medical science, I suppose."

"Very interesting! I collect weapons! I own 24 old battleaxes!"

"Yes, I know." He told her almost all the time. "I'd love to see them someday."

"I'd love for you to see them! I am very passionate about my collection!"

Ana nodded, pressing her hands together and leaning on Reinhardt's massive shoulder. Perhaps, the world was bleak and dark, people like him were like flickering lights in the distance. It was people like him that made Ana want to protect humanity.


End file.
